Assoc for Scottish Literature
@scotlit@mastodon.scot  ·  activity timestamp 4 months ago
A portrait of James Hutton, painted by Sir Henry Raeburn. Oil on canvas, c. 1776. Hutton – a slim, middle-aged man, clean-shaven and with a receding hairline – sits in a plain wooden chair. His left leg is crossed over his right knee, and his hands are interlaced on his lap. He wears a brown eighteenth-century suit, with knee breeches. To his left is a table covered by a green cloth; on the table are piles of papers and a collection of rocks and fossils.
A portrait of James Hutton, painted by Sir Henry Raeburn. Oil on canvas, c. 1776. Hutton – a slim, middle-aged man, clean-shaven and with a receding hairline – sits in a plain wooden chair. His left leg is crossed over his right knee, and his hands are interlaced on his lap. He wears a brown eighteenth-century suit, with knee breeches. To his left is a table covered by a green cloth; on the table are piles of papers and a collection of rocks and fossils.
A portrait of James Hutton, painted by Sir Henry Raeburn. Oil on canvas, c. 1776. Hutton – a slim, middle-aged man, clean-shaven and with a receding hairline – sits in a plain wooden chair. His left leg is crossed over his right knee, and his hands are interlaced on his lap. He wears a brown eighteenth-century suit, with knee breeches. To his left is a table covered by a green cloth; on the table are piles of papers and a collection of rocks and fossils.
Assoc for Scottish Literature
@scotlit@mastodon.scot  ·  activity timestamp 4 months ago
Assoc for Scottish Literature
@scotlit@mastodon.scot  ·  activity timestamp 4 months ago
Theory of the Earth Edwin Morgan James Hutton that true son of fire who said to Burns 'Aye, man, the rocks melt wi the sun' was sure the age of reason's time was done: what but imagination could have read granite boulders back to their molten roots? And how far back was back, and how far on would basalt still be basalt, iron iron? Would second seas re-drown the fossil brutes? 'We find no vestige of a beginning, no prospect of an end.' They died almost together, poet and geologist, and lie in wait for hilltop buoys to ring, or aw the seas gang dry and Scotland's coast dissolve in crinkled sand and pungent mist.
Theory of the Earth Edwin Morgan James Hutton that true son of fire who said to Burns 'Aye, man, the rocks melt wi the sun' was sure the age of reason's time was done: what but imagination could have read granite boulders back to their molten roots? And how far back was back, and how far on would basalt still be basalt, iron iron? Would second seas re-drown the fossil brutes? 'We find no vestige of a beginning, no prospect of an end.' They died almost together, poet and geologist, and lie in wait for hilltop buoys to ring, or aw the seas gang dry and Scotland's coast dissolve in crinkled sand and pungent mist.
Theory of the Earth Edwin Morgan James Hutton that true son of fire who said to Burns 'Aye, man, the rocks melt wi the sun' was sure the age of reason's time was done: what but imagination could have read granite boulders back to their molten roots? And how far back was back, and how far on would basalt still be basalt, iron iron? Would second seas re-drown the fossil brutes? 'We find no vestige of a beginning, no prospect of an end.' They died almost together, poet and geologist, and lie in wait for hilltop buoys to ring, or aw the seas gang dry and Scotland's coast dissolve in crinkled sand and pungent mist.
Home Login